When I tell people about the kind of weekly column I write for this newspaper — a parenting column that focuses on the sometimes reported and sometimes very personal joys, struggles, and peculiarities of raising children in New York — they occasionally tell me that the column reminds them of the column penned by Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker) in the HBO television series “Sex and the City.”

“Sure,” I always respond mischievously. “Except that it’s a parenting column. It’s more like ‘No Sex and the City.'”

When “Sex and the City: The Movie” is released Wednesday at midnight, I’ll be curious to see if Carrie and the gang are having as much sex as they did when the series made its debut 10 years ago. Because, you see, two of the gang — Miranda and Charlotte — are busy tending their marriages and raising children, a far cry from the sexual escapades that kept them busy during their television glory days.

The movie finds the characters four years after the series’ end, continuing to juggle jobs and relationships while navigating motherhood, marriage, and Manhattan real estate. Carrie and “Big” (Chris Noth) might be getting married and moving into a sprawling Fifth Avenue penthouse. Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) is trying to balance her law career, son, husband, and Brooklyn townhouse. Charlotte (Kristin Davis) is living out her fairy tale and finds herself pregnant after having adopted a baby girl from China. And Samantha (Kim Cattrall) is still involved with model Smith Jerrod, who is both live-in lover and star client of her Los Angeles-based talent-management company.

Can the lives of these fabulous four be quite as fabulous when each is in a committed relationship? How will they handle the adjustment to life with more serious responsibilities than birth control and Blahniks, deadlines and decorating?

I can still remember my own adjustment to parenthood, which I usually compare to being hit by a Mack truck. Forget whatever adjustments I have had to make from one to two, two to three, three to four, and most recently four to five children. The adjustment from none to one was by far the greatest. I went from carefree and kicking up my heels in this great town to mommy dearest the same year “Sex and the City” made its television debut. I remember what it felt like to go from having eaten at the latest hot spot to being the main course for the baby in a short period of time. This is a far more challenging shift than moving from the Upper East Side to the meatpacking district, as Samantha does in season three of the television show.

Miranda and Charlotte aren’t the only ones to have given birth: The show itself has spawned several metaphorical children, if you will — subsequent television shows that portray women and girls in the upper echelon of New York. One show that comes to mind is NBC’s “Lipstick Jungle,” about three hard-working, high-powered girlfriends living in Manhattan; like “Sex and the City,” the show is loosely based on the work of sex columnist-turned-author Candace Bushnell. Another series that seems inspired by the HBO hit is the CW’s “Gossip Girl,” which revolves around the sordid lives of elite teenagers on the Upper East Side who, with too much money and time on their hands, get caught up in (surprise, surprise) sex, drugs, and drinking.

Yet, it is not these shows that remind me most of the hilarious situations and conversations shared by Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda, and Samantha over cosmopolitans during their six television seasons. On suburban Wisteria Lane, it is the relationships between pondering Susan (Carrie), uptight Bree (Charlotte), practical Lynette (Miranda), and narcissistic Gaby (Samantha) of ABC’s “Desperate Housewives” that carry on HBO’s groundbreaking tradition. Instead of boozing together, the girls play cards. In both shows, one woman must tackle breast cancer while the others rally around her. Both shows feature plenty of sex and entertaining outfits — though Gaby’s tart look can’t compare with Carrie’s, masterfully executed by stylist Patricia Field. Ultimately, though, at the heart of these guilty pleasures is the way in which female friendships provide sustenance during the good times and bad. In both shows, we rarely meet these women’s sisters, mothers, or extended family — and when we do, they are often portrayed in a negative light. The pursuit of love and labels is the activity. But the friendships are what really matter.

This is why many American women — whose lives are far less glamorous and who don’t necessarily live in the Big Apple or lush, manicured suburbia — are drawn to these characters. This is why the movie version of “Sex and the City” — minus all the sex that made the television series so innovative — is still likely to be a hit.

And this is why when I see the movie tomorrow, I’ll be going with girlfriends. I’ll ask my husband if he can stay home and put the children to bed. Just like Charlotte and Miranda, I’m sure.

sarasberman@aol.com